OPEN LINES III

With Brian Kinney, Ron Rosenblum, Jimmy Hardy, Diane Rhys.Rated R and contains no warnings or spoilers.Summary: The phone lines burn up between Pittsburgh and Los Angeles. May 2002.Disclaimer: This is for fun, not profit. Watch Queer As Folk on Showtime, buy the DVDs, videos, and CDs. Read the stories and enjoy.

Tuesday, May 21, 2002. 10:46 a.m.:

"Yeah?"

"When the fuck were you planning to call me?"

"Jesus, Ron! Don't you ever say 'hello' before you jump on top of me? I guess some things never change."

"Don't you think I'm worrying about you out here? I have no idea if you're dead or alive."

"Do you have any idea how much like your mother you sound, Ron? It's positively comical."

"And you told me that if I let you go to Pittsburgh that you would keep in close contact with me. How am I supposed to know what's going on? You might be ill. You might be in trouble."

"I'm fine! Just fine! Jesus, I've only been here 24 fucking hours!"

"Well...."

"If you 'let' me go to Pittsburgh? I wasn't aware that I needed you to 'let' me go to my own place in my own hometown? Since when do I need your permission, Ron?"

"Sounds like you're in a bad mood. Aren't things working out as planned there?"

"Bad mood? I was in a fine fucking mood until you started giving me the third degree first thing in the fucking morning!"

"Maybe you should have that friend of yours -- Michael -- stay there with you. He's always over there anyway, even when you're gone."

"Ron, how would you know that Michael is over here at the loft all the time?"

"Well...."

"Yes?"

"I may have called there. Looking for you. And he answered."

"Looking for me when? Not this week? I just got here yesterday!"

"When do you fucking think? During your disappearing act. This number was on your speed-dial in the poolhouse. Michael picked up."

"Did you really expect me to be in Pittsburgh then?"

"I don't know where the fuck I expected you to be. But I thought maybe you'd call your place and... talk to someone there...."

"Are you calling from the poolhouse now? Ron?"

"I might be."

"And you call ME a drama queen!"

"I don't think that's at all funny."

"Well, I think it's a scream. Why are you creating all this melodrama where none exists, Ron? Don't you get enough with the picture? NOTHING is happening here. I'm in my loft. I'm in bed. In a little while I'll have something to eat and probably go back to sleep. The whole two weeks will proceed pretty much like that and then I'll come back and do whatever you have for me to do there."

"And after that?"

"After what?"

"After everything is finished. Really finished. Then what, Brian?"

"How the fuck should I know, Ron?"

"Give me a hint? A fucking clue?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"What else? That you are staying out HERE. That you're staying at the house...."

"Ron...."

"Staying with me.... Brian?"

"I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Brian...."

"I'm just telling you the truth, Ron."

"So, you'd leave me and your career and go back to fucking Pittsburgh to be with some blond waiter?"

"Who told you he was a waiter?"

"I don't know. Maybe I guessed. You are about as predictable as the sun rising, you know."

"Well, he's not a waiter. He's an artist. An art student."

"And a waiter."

"An EX-waiter."

"I fucking KNEW it! Jimmy owes me a hundred bucks!"

"Ron...."

"A fucking non-entity! A fucking NOBODY! Shit! If you're going to fucking DUMP me, then dump me for a Jimmy, for godsake! He's an Oscar-winner AND your co-star! It's a given that the star always fucks the leading lady, let's face it! Or what about Sir Kenneth? He's got some class, at least. You think I didn't know about him, TOO? I know everything! Even lousy Peter. At least he has a sitcom that's in the Top Twenty in the ratings this year. But this fucking little nobody? I can't fucking STAND it!"

"Are you finished?"

"NO! I'm not finished! I'll never be finished!"

"What do you really want to do, Ron? Chain me up like a dog? Would that make you happy?"

"Why not? At least then I could keep you from making a fool of yourself!"

"I don't sound like the one making a fool of myself, Ron. I thought you weren't jealous? That you didn't believe in jealousy? That you were 'understanding,' right? Fucking was just fucking and had no real meaning? Isn't that what you said?"

"So, I lied! I thought that's what you wanted to hear!"

"I want you to tell me the truth. Not just parrot back all my stupid, immature 'beliefs'! It's all bullshit, anyway. Just bullshit. I don't know why I bother to talk to you anymore."

"Brian, you can't hide out in that loft forever. When the film comes out you're going to be a big star. You won't be able to hide, even there. You'll have to face facts."

"Don't start with that crap now."

"You wanted truth, Brian."

"That's just your fucking fantasy world, Ron."

"Yes, it is. That's what movies are. Someone's fucking fantasy world made real. Maybe mine. But it's going to be YOUR reality sooner than you think. November, to be exact, if all goes to schedule. That's when you cease to be anonymous. And you're going to need me to help you. To guide you. To shield you...."

"Oh, you've done a fabulous job of shielding me from my problems, Ron. You might as well have invited all of my demons to take up permanent residence inside my head. That's really helping me. That's really protecting me from the dark."

"You're not still afraid of the dark, Brian."

"How would you know what I'm afraid of, Ron? How would you know?"

***

Friday, May 24, 2002. 9:26 a.m.:

"Yeah?"

"Brian? Is this the right number?"

"Jimmy? What the fuck are you calling me here for?"

"What kind of greeting is that?"

"Did Ron give you this number?"

"No, he doesn't know I have it. I copied it from your phone when you were missing. Ron said this is your apartment in Pittsburgh. I just assumed this is where you would be."

"No, no! I don't want you to cut your trip short. No way! Enjoy yourself. Rest up. Have a few beers. I just mean that when it's time to come back...."

"Then I'll be back, Jimmy. Like I said I would."

"That's my boy, Bri! A man of honor! Integrity!"

"Cut the b.s., Jimmy. You're giving me a massive headache."

"I also want to make sure you're coming to my AFI tribute. Did you get your ticket?"

"Ron's got it, Jimmy."

"I wanted to make sure. I want to be sure you're sitting at my table. So I have to know you are going to be there."

"You know -- maybe it isn't such a good idea, Jimmy."

"What?"

"Maybe if I go at all I should sit somewhere -- inconspicuous."

"Why?"

"Jimmy -- wake up. Talk to Tess if you won't listen to me. Don't you care about all the rumors and shit? I mean, it makes no difference to me -- but don't YOU care?"

"No. Not really. Should I?"

"Well...."

"I've never paid attention to that kind of thing before. Why should I start now?"

"Because, Jimmy, you have a sexually explicit flick coming out in which your virgin butt gets rimmed, skimmed, and fucked into next Tuesday. That's not your usual situation -- even for an A-List star."

"I know. That's why I wanted to do it. Because no one else would."

"Okay, Jimmy, but have you heard of a little thing called 'gossip'? Or 'the internet'? Or the 'tabloids'? Because they are all speculating about YOU. About US! And not based on the film itself, which no one has seen yet...."

"Okay -- no one but you and Ron and the editors. But these rumors are based on YOU, Jimmy. Your behavior. On ME. And it isn't Diane or Freddy Weinstein or any of those people spreading them. They are everywhere. And now you want me to sit next to you at your tribute. Your coronation by the American Film Institute? Who are you, Jimmy? Sir Kenneth? You want to hold hands and make out on camera and freak Middle America out of their fucking minds?"

"Sounds fun. Might be good publicity for the picture."

"Jimmy, are you drunk? At, what? 7:30 in the morning your time? Where is Tess?"

"She's on a little trip herself, Bri. She's staying at her mother's."

"In Chicago?"

"No. She bought her mother a condo out in Palm Springs about five years ago. She's out there."

"Why Jimmy? Her mother isn't ill is she?"

"No, she's just fine. Right as rain."

"And Tess?"

"She's just... sort of... left me. But I'm sure it's only temporary."

"Fuck! Jimmy!"

"Like I said -- I'm sure she'll be back in a day or two."

"What about Annie?"

"She's here. Tess didn't want to take her out of school. Yet."

"This is so fucked up, Jimmy! Call her and tell her to come back. Now."

"I did. She told me to jump in the lake. Which lake she didn't specify. Maybe Lake Michigan."